Storyteller
by IHaveCookieInMyEye
Summary: One-Shot Song Fic. As Draco walks through the battlefield filled with the dead and dying, he reflects on his life and the decisions he's made. R&R! More to come soon!


A/N: IMPORTANT! This is part 10 or a series of one-shots I'm currently writing. It was inspired by the song 'Storyteller' By TRAPT. I am posting it now to see which kind of response I will get and because it can be read as a stand-alone, as can each of the other chapters which I will post as I write them. :) Once I have written all of the 11 chapters (each named after and inspired by songs from TRAPT's newest CD), I will re-post them all under one title (the series will be called TRAPT) and leave a list of the chapter order on my profile. Thank you for your time.

P.S I do not own Harry Potter or the lyrics posted in this story. I only wish. Thanks :P

"Holding my breath

As I patiently wait

What could come next"

Harry Potter stood silently as the Dark Lord fell to his knees before him, defeated. For a moment, all was still as The Boy-who-lived and the feared Lord Voldemort held each others gaze. And then, as though in slow motion, the light left those glaring red eyes and the thin, broken body of the Dark Lord went limp and fell forward onto the blood-soaked earth, a look of utmost shock frozen on his pointed skeletal features.

Harry swayed on his feet as the Dark Lord fell but managed to remain standing despite his exaustion. For a moment, no one moved and the field was silent as the survivors held a collective breath, hardly daring to believe it. Surely, that couldn't be it? After years of war, death and misery, it couldn't be over, could it? Surely, he would rise to his feet, dark laughter on his lips, ready to smite them all for their insolence? But as the silence stretched on and his expression remained unchanged, his body unmoving, shock began to give way to hope and whispers broke out all around.

As the reality of his death sank in, cheers and sobs of relief began to break out as the survivors of war began rounding up the remaining Death Eaters that quickly began to flee after their master's defeat.

Draco Malfoy sneered as he stared down at the body, dispassionately. "Good riddance" he muttered darkly, turning away from the scene. He barely registered it as Potter collapsed under the weight of his injuries behind him, his allies quickly surrounding him, crying out in concern and alarm. He didn't particularly care if Potter survived. He'd served his purpose; he'd ridden the world of the Dark Lord.

Taking a deep breath, Draco began to survey the wreckage around him. In a daze, he ignored the disturbance behind him and began moving forward at a slow pace. After all, he was in no hurry, there was nowhere he needed to be. He had nowhere left to go.

"You turned on a light

In my gullible mind

I let you inside

Just like a child

Imagining what could be"

Lorst in thought, Draco began to look back on the last few years of his life and for the first time, saw how wrong he'd been. Voldemort was no better than the rest of them, he was just a man, ruled by his thirst for vengeance.

He could recall the night he'd accepted the dark mark in vivid detail. He had looked up at him in wonder then, filled with the promise of a better world, marveling at his undeniable power. Peace. Purity. Respect. That was what he had been promised.

No one would ever laugh at him again. No one would ever doubt his status. He would be among the best, no longer forced to mingle with the filth and scum that had come to infest the wizarding world. Or so he had been told. When asked, he had raised his left arm without hesitation, holding it steady, head bowed as cold fingers caressed the soft unmarked skin of his forearm. His eyes had shone bright with excitement as the tip of a long, bone-white wand was pressed lightly to his skin.

"I let it run wild

I was naive

It's too good to be true

Still I believed"

As the dark Lord began the incantation, his skin began to prickle and he shook not with fear but anticipation. He knew it would hurt but he found it to be a small price to pay for ultimate power. And when the mark began to appear, black and blistering, and the air filled with the stench of burning flesh, he did not scream but instead grit his teeth tightly, holding his arm steady as his cold gray eyes sought out those of his father. He held his gaze as he was branded a slave, feeling warmth spreading to his very fingertips at the look of pride on his father's pointed face. He smiled.

"You told me

What I wanted to hear

Your words paint pictures

So sincere"

As Draco's mind returned to the present, he found that his feet had carried him deep into the still battlefield and he found himself surrounded by the dead and dying. As he surveyed the damage, he seemed to age beyond his years. Blood. Pain. Death. Everywhere he looked he saw the aftermath of war. But for the white masks, it was nearly impossible to distinguish friend from foe, Pureblood from Mudblood. And he realized it didn't matter; they were all the same in death.

"Well some things

Aren't as they appear

The fantasy is over"

He could distinguish some of the faces around him. People he'd gone to school with. People that had shared meals with him in the great hall or that had tortured him in death eater meetings. People who'd fought alongside him on both sides. He wondered briefly if his father had survived as he resumed his slow trek across the grounds. Not that it mattered. Not to him.

"Storyteller, storyteller

Telling tales so tall

A witness so false"

He had been raised in privilege, brought up with promises of a brighter future and bedtime stories depicting illusions of grandeur in which he stood alongside his Father and the Dark Lord as the world was purged of evil and filth and a new world rose, unopposed. A world without pain and suffering. A world where everyone was equal and they shared in the wealth all around them.

He had been told he'd be a hero, a legend. He was to be worshiped as a God. Never once had his father told him he'd be tortured on the Dark Lord's whim, that he'd have to inflict that same torture on defenseless muggles, that he'd be forced to murder in cold blood. No one had told him how it would feel. Not once had he been told he'd spend the remainder of his days cowering in fear of the Dark Lord's wrath, serving this so-called greater purpose from his knees, little more than a house-elf.

"Storyteller, storyteller

You lead your audience on

For your fiction they fall

Believing the fraud"

But he supposed he couldn't blame his father. Not entirely, at least. After all, he had been fooled as well. The Dark Lord was a skilled recruiter. He could spin a web of lies so great, it shone like Gold, attracting all the greedy little flies. He knew what people wanted to hear and he used those desires to lure them to him. He could corrupt anyone. Lucious Malfoy was no exception. He'd even corrupted her...He shuddered as he remembered the night after his first raid.

The moment they'd arrived back on school grounds, he'd doubled over and retched, the images of what he'd done playing across his tightly closed lids. He could still see the bodies, hear the tortured screams. There had been four of them; a mother, a father and their two small children. The youngest had been no older than four years old. The things they'd done to them...the things he himself had done...Bile rose unbidden and he shook as he was, again, violently ill.

"Innocence lost

I was safe and secure

Now it's all gone"

Small hands rubbed his back and an angel's voice whispered soft comforting words in his ear. A shudder tore through his body as he fought to catch his breath. "You told me we'd be helping people. That we'd be saving lives, not taking them" he whispered shakily. "You said we'd change the world" there was silence for a moment, his ragged breaths the only sound. And then, "They were just muggles. We need to dispose of them to change the world." she answered, dispassionately.

He looked up at her, eyes wide in shock and confusion. He'd never heard her sound so cold. "You told me...you..." he stuttered. But she leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes automatically at the feeling of her lips on his. When they pulled apart, she was smiling down at him, a hand laid delicately on his cheek. "Sorry, I lied."

"Sorry I lied

Is that all you can say

Sorry I tried"

He stared in disbelief at her words. So simple. So cold. He began shaking his head in denial, "No, no...I don't want...no" Her gaze hardened and in an instant, her hand had slid from his cheek to the back of his head, puling his hair down so hard that his head jerked backwards so that he was forced to look up at her.

She again leaned into him, this time stopping mere inches from his face so that when she spoke, he could feel her cool breath tickling his face. "You listen to me, Draco Malfoy. There is no turning back. You've sworn your allegiance and you will serve the Dark Lord. Those muggles deserved what they got" She repeated. "Their filth must be purged from this world and we will be the ones to do it." He tried to struggle, gasping as shock invaded his mind so that he couldn't think straight but she pulled harder until his neck creaked under the strain, making his eyes water.

She shook him violently as her voice rose "No! This is your life now! You are a Death Eater, who would take you in? No one would care for you. Not after what you've done" She spat scathingly. He recognized the truth in her words. "You're an outlaw and we're all you've got now." He became aware that he was shaking and his eyes filled with grief. He stopped struggling and hung limp in her grasp, defeated. He was a murderer. He was sixteen and he had helped torture and kill innocent people.

Sensing victory, her eyes softened and she whispered quietly, "I'm all you've got, now." Her grip on his hair became less violent as her brown eyes darted quickly to his parted lips. "And I'm all you need." She captured his mouth in a searing kiss, her lips crushing his own in her zeal and he gave in, reaching out to pull her closer, returning the kiss passionately, desperately craving the affection.

"I was convinced

By the sweetest of talk

Not to resist

You'll be exposed

By the people you played

Watch it unfold"

Draco shook his head at the unexpected memory, ashamed to note the moisture that had gathered in his gray orbs. He hastily wiped the tears away and began searching the field in earnest. 'I do need you.' he thought, growing frantic in his search.

He found many familiar faces among the dead; Blaise Zabini, Goyle and Millicent Bullstrode among them. All donned the same familiar black robes and white mask that he himself had worn. All stared straight ahead with varying expressions of fear and pain in their cold, dead eyes. He felt nauseous. He needed her. And finally, he found her.

She lay face down, her body strewn protectively over the corpse of Zacharias Smith. It appeared as though Smith had been wounded, judging by the copious amounts of blood staining both of their dark robes. There was a dark stain on her lower back and he gasped at the sight, hastily kneeling by her side and pulling her into his lap, heart pounding.

He carefully turned her over so that he could see her face and moaned when his eyes found hers. Her deep brown eyes were dull and unseeing, an expression of fear, pain and determination as well as an emotion he couldn't identify staring up at a spot just beyond his left shoulder. He sobbed as he reached out a trembling hand to caress her face, the soft flush of color gone from her cheeks. His bloodshot eyes found hers once more and he shuddered suddenly in realization. It was Love. She had died for love.

"You told me

What I wanted to hear

Your words paint pictures

So sincere

Well some things

Aren't as they appear

The fantasy is over"

Shaking more than ever, he pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, rocking her as grief and anger wracked his body in loud heart-wrenching sobs. He pretended for a moment that she had died for him. That those eyes were for him. He pretended one last time that she had loved him as he cradled her tightly to his chest and cried. They had all believed the Dark Lord's lies. They had believed that he would make the world a better place. And it had cost her her life.

"Storyteller, storyteller

Telling tales so tall

A witness so false"

They had followed the tyrant blindly in an unnecessary war. They had committed murder and brought pain and destruction to innocent people. And for what? Glory? Peace? He had said they deserved better and that muggles and their kind must be exterminated. But he hadn't been any better, had he? He had been a half-blood, himself. He'd heard Potter say it, he'd seen the Dark Lord's panic and denial as the words had echoed across the battle field, leaving whispers and jeering in it's wake.

"Storyteller, storyteller

You lead your audience on

For your fiction they fall

Believing the fraud"

He had led them all with lies upon lies, promising glory and power but all he'd really wanted was blood and revenge. He'd just wanted to believe, as Draco himself had moments ago, in a different reality, one where he was important and all-powerful so that he wouldn't have to remember the rejection and pain he'd endured. He had used them all to exact his revenge for what was done to him. And they had allowed themselves to be his pawns.

"Believing in you

Believing in everything you told them you could do

You're just a facade

You'll never be true

Storyteller you are through"

As his sobs subsided, Draco laid her back down, next to Smith, on the cold hard ground, reaching over to softly brush a strand of hair from her face."I loved you" he whispered into the silent night.

"It was all an act

It was all an act for you"

Slowly, he raised a shaky hand and gently closed her eyes. He sighed painfully, knowing he'd never again see her soft brown eyes looking at him. He'd never again feel her warm lips on his. He felt his heart break, knowing that none of it had been real. Slowly he rose and wrenched his eyes away from her still form and looked around him one last time, taking in the damage their ignorance had wrought.

"It was all an act"

As he closed his eyes he thought of her smile and a single tear rolled down his cheek. A loud crack rent the air as Draco Malfoy disapparated, leaving everything and everyone behind, without a backward glance.

"I guess I was the fool"

A/N: Alright. For the fans of the band TRAPT, I apologize. I realized only after I finished writing this chapter that I actually cut out a chorus right at the end here. Buuuut, it fits with the story and I'm not changing it haha :P Please please please let me know what you all think! I haven't written in a while (other than poetry) and I'm so excited to be getting back into it! 


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